


The Game Plan

by Justalittlelouislove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Kid Fic, Rex! the lovable pitbull is an important part of my heart and this fic, ballet teacher Louis, brand new character Mia, soccer star louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25110070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justalittlelouislove/pseuds/Justalittlelouislove
Summary: Louis's life is exactly how he likes it: all about him. When it suddenly gets turned on its head and one little lady makes a huge impact, will he learn to handle it or run for the hills?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 117
Collections: Disney Direction Fic Fest 2020





	The Game Plan

Most people that successfully find themselves in positions of fame and glory agree on the downside: paparazzi. For Louis though, it’s the early wake-up calls. Sure having flashing bulbs in his face every time his publicist thinks his recognition rate is going down is pretty fucking annoying. And yah, the rags that buy the pictures seem to have some kind of bet with each other to see who can print the absolute nastiest, meanest, or weirdest shit possible. But, Louis would easily trade a week’s worth of pap walks for a week’s worth of 11 am wake up calls. 

As soon as he’d hit it big as a pro soccer player, his beauty sleep had taken a serious hit. The only day he’s able to sleep past 5 am is Sunday. It’s a glorious, glorious day of nothing. It’s Louis’s sacred lazy day and everyone from the bell boy to the owner of his team respects that. Which is why Louis’s currently fuming and dumbfounded by the fact that at 7 am on a Sunday, someone is knocking on his front door. 

Loudly. 

Louis yanks the door open and glares at… well, no one. He blinks a few times at the empty space on the other side of the door until the sound of someone clearing their throat comes from about three feet below Louis’s eye line. He looks down and finds a child-shaped target to glare at. 

“Hi! My name’s Mia,” the child says cheerily, holding out her hand. Louis stares at it. “You’re supposed to shake it.” 

The hangover gets about three notches worse, probably fueled by irritation.

“Yeah well, I don’t know if you’ve been picking your nose or whatever kids do.” Louis takes a step back. “I’m not buying anything and I already make monthly donations to like a billion places. Keep it moving kid.” 

Louis swings the door shut before she can respond. Raking his hand over his face, he lumbers into the kitchen to whip up some hair of the dog. He hasn’t made it past taking down a glass when the pounding starts back up. 

With a groan, Louis stomps back over to the door and yanks it open again. 

“Hello, my name is Mia,” the intolerable destroyer of peace repeats. This time she doesn’t hold out her hand. 

Louis narrows his eyes. “I got that the first time. What happened to the handshake part of the routine?”

Mia closes her huge brown eyes slowly and opens them again like she’s trying to refrain from rolling them. It’s a familiar gesture to Louis, ringing a bell somewhere in the back of his mind reminding him of someone that he can’t quite put his finger on. 

“Well, I figured you might be a germaphobe or something so I left it out.” Mia shrugs and looks past him. “Are you gonna ask me to come in? You’re supposed to ask me to come in.” 

Louis’s jaw drops open. It takes him a few seconds to remember what words are even for. “Why in the hell would I do that? I don’t even know you, kid. You’re a five-year-old stranger at my door. You know what—” 

Louis gives up on arguing with the most irritating member of the lollipop guild and swings the door shut. 

But, it’s stopped from closing by a bright pink rolling suitcase Louis hadn’t even noticed the kid had behind her. She shoves the door back open while Louis stares at her in disbelief. 

“I’m eight and you do know me. My name is Mia. I’m your daughter.” 

Louis snorts. “Listen, kid, for biological reasons I’m not going to explain, I can promise you, you’re absolutely not mine.” 

Mia crosses her arms and cocks a brow. “Wanna bet?” 

Ten minutes later, Louis finds himself in the kitchen with a now raging hangover and a child sitting at his island, swinging her sparkly-shoed feet back and forth. 

He doesn’t believe her claim, of course. Being an openly gay man and lover of all things not vagina related creates a fairly slim chance of accidentally knocking someone up. But, he couldn’t argue with the girl in the hall all morning, not with his temples throbbing and the nosey old lady two doors down. He’ll just make himself a little hangover cure, call… the child police or whoever, and get on with his morning. 

“What is that?” 

“Tomato juice.” Louis closes the bottle and swirls it in the glass. 

Mia watches him with a furrowed brow. “You drink tomato juice?”

Louis roots around in the cabinet under the island. “I do when I need to mix it with vodka. I’m hungover, princess.” 

“You’re supposed to drink water when you’re hungover. ‘Cause you’re dehydrated.”  
Louis stares at her. “Is that what they’re teaching kindergarteners now?” 

“I’m in third grade,” Mia corrects breezily. She shakes her head and her chocolate ringlets bounce. “They don’t teach that. I have a friend who’s a bartender.” 

“You have a friend—” 

“If you don’t like water you can drink Gatorade.”

“I’m a professional soccer player,” Louis snaps. “And a grown man. I know how to hydrate.” 

Mia tilts her head, unphased. “So you just don’t wanna?”

Louis throws his hands up in the air. “You’re a medical marvel do you know that? There shouldn’t be enough room for all that annoying in a body that size.” He rips open the fridge door and pulls out a Gatorade, brandishing it at her. “Happy?!” 

Mia shrugs and spins around on the barstool. 

Louis takes a sip of the Gatorade and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of her feet hitting the knee wall of the island. 

“So I guess you’re going to have to tell me who your real parents are so I can call them.” 

Mia doesn’t stop spinning. “You are my real parents.” 

“I’m telling you kid, there was never a time that I— The people I date— I never—” 

“Not even seven years ago with a bartender in Miami the day you got signed?” 

Louis’s heart drops into his stomach. He swallows and thanks God for the Gatorade because his brain starts spinning so fast it feels like a top. 

“Miami…” he breathes. 

Mia stops spinning and nods, smug. 

“The… the day I got signed…”

He was 18, just a kid. Just a kid that had been handed his lifelong dream. Had it dropped at his feet. Just a kid with his dreams coming true and a choice to make: admit to himself, and to the world, that he was gay or hide it away. 

He’d gotten drunk at some bar that didn’t bother carding him. The bartender had caramel skin and deep brown eyes. Her smile was kind and her laugh came easily. He’d watched her and thought, if there was ever a woman, well it would probably be a woman like her. 

He’d spent the night with her. 

And come out the next day. 

“Miami…”

Mia, who’d resumed her spinning during Louis’s crash course down memory lane, stops again to study him. 

“Are you freaking out a lot?” 

Louis blinks his eyes into focus. “Can’t really tell what I’m doing——” Louis stops and narrows his eyes. “A friend who’s a bartender?” 

“Selmantics.” 

“Semantics,” Louis corrects. 

Mia nods sagely. “Yeah.” 

Louis huffs. “Alright. I mean… alright. Even if I buy this, why are you here now? Where’s your mom?” 

Mia hops off the stool and unzips the front pocket of her suitcase. From it, she produces two pieces of paper and hands them over. 

“My mom saves lives now. She works for doctors without borders.” Mia hops up on the stool again. “She used to take me with her but I needed to do school and stuff so when I started kindergarten she started leaving him with my uncle Joe. This trip was super important but uncle Joe couldn’t watch me and we don’t really have any other family, so she sent me here. That’s all in the letter, probably.” 

Louis opens up the folded paper she gestured to and stares at the typed words, unseeing. 

“And I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Mia trudges on, “So that’s why I got the test done from the kit online. My best friend Ricky and I used his dad’s credit card to buy your soccer jersey from eBay that you wore when you got that thing on your shoulder. The site matched the DNA. To mine. It’s a match it says so on the paper.” 

“You had my DNA tested…” Louis suddenly has the overwhelming urge to sit down. 

Or throw up.

Mia nods and smiles widely. “Smart, right? May I use the bathroom, please?”

“Down the hall. The second door on the left.” Louis points behind her. “Nice manners by the way,” he calls out as she skips down the hall. 

“Thanks!” 

Louis looks down at the letter in his hand. For some reason, the fact that it’s typed irks him. Dropping a kid into someone’s life feels like something that calls for pen and paper. He spreads it out on the island and reads. 

Dear Louis,

I’m sorry to do this to you so unexpectedly. I’m sure you have so many questions and I promise I’ll answer them all as soon as I get back. 

Mia is a good girl and incredibly smart. Just like her mom. Please just watch over her for the next month. It will go by quickly! 

I really am sorry about this and I hope you can forgive me. She is your daughter and hiding her from you was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. 

I’ll be out of reach for a while but I’ll contact you somehow, as soon as I can. 

Watch over my baby,  
Nina

Mia reappears in the kitchen just as he gets to the last line and his brain is still stuck in overdrive trying to process it all. 

“You have a lot of fancy towels,” she announces, startling him back into reality. 

“Uh… yeah. They’re for show.” 

Mia furrows her brow. “Like for fake? Why do you have fake towels?”

Louis is saved from admitting that he doesn’t really know why either, by the sound of the front door opening and scratches on the hardwood. 

A huge brown dog with a boxy head and wide chest comes through the door followed by a smiling brunette man in a soft-looking jogging outfit. 

“A puppy!” Mia squeals before scrambling off the stool and running over. 

Rex, the “puppy” who has never seen the child in his life and is supposed to be a ferocious guard dog, is instantly delighted to see Mia running towards him. He wags his tail in a circle and pulls on the leash. 

Niall, the man attached to the other end of the leash, looks positively alarmed. “What the hell is— Lou?”

Mia ignores him in favor of sitting on the ground in front of Rex and holding out her hand for him to smell. He licks it and Mia wraps him in a hug.  
Louis, who hadn’t thought about his 80-pound pitbull coming home from his morning walk until Mia was hurtling towards him, comes up behind them and crosses his arms. 

“Some guard dog you are.” He rolls his eyes at Rex’s happy expression over Mia’s shoulder and looks over at Niall. “Niall, this… is Mia.”

Mia sits back on her bottom and pets Rex’s head. “I’m his daughter.” Louis winces. She turns and looks up at him. “What’s his name?” 

“Rex.” Because Niall looks like he’s been struck by lightning, Louis sighs. “Mia, why don’t you keep him company for a minute?” 

He nods towards the kitchen and Niall follows him over. 

“So, uh. It looks like I have a kid.” 

Niall’s flabbergasted expression doesn’t change. “How?”

“The stork,” Louis deadpans, rolling his eyes. 

Niall sucks his teeth. “I know how kids are made,” he whisper shouts. “I just didn’t think that was really your… ya know… thing. Wrong equipment and all.”

Louis takes another chug from his Gatorade, annoyed that it’s helping with his hangover. “Yeah, well. It’s not my thing. But, apparently ‘it only takes once’ isn’t an exaggeration. Her mom sent her with this.” 

He hands over the letter and watches Mia and Rex over Niall’s shoulder as he reads. Rex is showing her how he can play dead. Every time he flops on his side, she claps with delight and cheers. 

What a ham.

“Wow,” Niall breathes, bringing Louis’s attention back into the kitchen. “This is kind of heavy stuff for a letter, isn’t it? You’d think she would have come and told you in person.” 

“Apparently it was a last-minute emergency thing.” Louis drags a hand through his hair. “What am I going to do with a kid for a month? I’ve never been with a kid for more than five minutes.”

Niall turns and they watch the pair of friends playing by the door. 

“I don’t know much about kids, but I did have a girlfriend with a baby sister once.” Niall shrugs. “She mostly made sure she ate and didn’t drown or anything.”  
“No drowning,” Louis says faintly. “Got it.”

Niall leaves soon after, already late for his next dog walking appointment. That leaves Louis alone with Mia again, but the dynamic is different now. Rex seems to have fallen for her and doesn’t leave her side even for a moment. So now it’s more like two against one, which is slightly less than great. 

At a loss for what to do next, Louis thinks over Niall’s advice. 

Make sure she eats. Right. Step one.

“Did you have breakfast?” Louis calls into the living room. “I can make you… well, I can order something.”

After a maple syrup mess of delivery pancakes, Louis starts to panic faced with the prospect of spending time entertaining Mia. But, she finds his iPad next to the couch and much to his relief spends the rest of the day playing Disney movies. Rex remains plopped down at her side.

It gives him some free time to quietly reflect on the morning’s events, or, go into a full-scale freakout. To avoid tail spinning into the latter he decides to go for a run in his home gym down the hall. As the sweat drips down his brow, his thoughts race. 

He’s not a dad. He doesn’t even really know what a dad is. His own dad was never around, that’s for sure. There had been a couple of months of visitation attempts when he was small, but all Louis really remembers from those trips is feeling unwanted. He remembers feeling like a hand me down piece of furniture: overlooked and unneeded. He remembers wishing his dad was more like his mom: kind, sweet, quick to smile. 

The program on the treadmill kicks up the incline a couple of notches. Louis’s lungs start to work harder and the endorphins flow, calming him and clearing his mind. 

He might not have a great father figure to look up to, but it’s not like everybody does. There are books, probably, and podcasts. He can learn about this dad stuff, train, and practice even. He probably won’t win any dad of the year awards, but being nice? He can do that. He can make sure Mia never feels like he did. 

The treadmill kicks into the cool down mode and Louis mops his brow. He thinks about his endeavor. 

Louis Tomlinson: soccer star, philanthropist, bachelor. 

Lunatic.

Lunch is grilled cheese, one of the very few things he actually knows how to cook, and dinner is delivered again. Sunday’s are always delivery days in the Tomlinson household. It’s the only day his chef takes off. When he explains that to Mia she looks at him like he has two heads. The concept of a chef being anywhere but in a restaurant is completely foreign to her. Louis feels a twinge of guilt for her unknown living situation. His mother was a single mom and he remembered how tough things had been for them. He decides to prod a little and find out what Mia’s life with Nina, her mom, is like. But, not until they are both a little more comfortable with each other. 

Rex and Mia, on the other hand, could not possibly be more comfortable. He stands watch at the base of the tub while she takes a bath—a task that takes far more bubbles than Louis thinks should even be legal—and lays at her feet in the guest bedroom when she climbs into bed. Louis, dead on his feet, doesn’t even have the energy to call him a traitor before retreating to his own room and falling asleep as soon as his face hits the pillow. 

On Monday morning, Louis’s alarm goes off loudly, waking him and kicking his system into automatic mode. Bleary-eyed and sleep rumpled, he brushes his teeth, puts on overpriced face cream, pulls on his practice gear, and heads into the kitchen. Where his routine comes to a resounding and screeching halt. 

Liam, his professional chef and semi-professional pain in the ass, is behind the island like usual. But Mia is sitting atop the counter, criss-cross applesauce stirring something in a bowl in her lap.

Mia. His daughter. 

Louis Tomlinson: soccer star, philanthropist, bachelor.

Dumbass. 

Rex is the first to notice him and Mia looks up at the sound of his thumping tail. 

“We’re making pancakes,” Mia says happily, “with blueberries!” 

“I love blueberries,” Louis says, clearing his throat. He feels a little awkward walking into his own kitchen. 

“I know. Mr. Liam told me.” Mia smiles at Liam. “That’s why I picked them.” 

The ease of her thoughtfulness gives him a weird feeling he doesn’t want to investigate before caffeine. 

“Thanks, kid,” he mumbles. He fills a mug with coffee and holds it up towards Liam. “Thanks, man.” 

Liam glances up quickly and then back to Mia, watching her carefully. “No problem. Mia here is a chef in the making. Imagine my surprise, coming into work, and finding a new sous chef.” 

Louis rolls his eyes over his mug. “Imagine mine.” 

“Alright, little Mia. Now, we’ll take that and scoop a bit into the pan. Carefully please,” Liam instructs, looking very pleased with her work. “Perfect, now we just add in the berries and wait for the bubbles.” 

As Louis watches from the stool, Mia does as she’s told, slowly and carefully. Then, she sits back and smiles. She looks over at him and tilts her head. 

“I like your outfit. It’s very matchy.” 

Louis glances down at his neon orange outfit. Matchy is just about the nicest thing that can be said about it. 

“Thanks, it’s my practice gear.” Louis wants to groan as he realizes he's not even thought about practice. “Uh, actually, Mia I think you’re gonna have to come with me to practice today.” 

Mia shrugs. “Okay, can Rex come?” 

Liam looks between Mia’s hopeful face and Louis’s expression and snorts. 

Louis sighs, defeated before even rousing the troops. “Sure.” 

Mia cheers and then gets down to the serious business of flipping the pancake just as the front door opens and Niall comes in. 

“Good morning all,” he greets, bending to scratch Rex behind the ears. “How are we today?” 

“I’m making pancakes,” Mia tells him. “With blueberries! Mr. Liam made coffee already. Do you want some?” 

Niall’s smile broadens. “Sure I would. You’re a very gracious host, my dear. No, no don’t jump down, I’ll get it.”

Niall passes Louis on the way to the coffee maker and claps him on the back. 

“She’s a lot nicer than you in the morning. Same as usual for old man Rex today?” 

Louis nods his head in thanks to Liam as he sets down a plate of pancakes in front of him. “No, just a short one actually,” he says to Niall. “He’s coming with Mia and me to practice after breakfast.”

Niall looks up from his to-go mug with a surprised expression. “Yeah?”

Louis shifts in his seat. “Yeah.” 

Liam and Nialls exchange a glance and a smile. “Alrighty, see you soon then,” Niall says and heads to the front door with Rex following closely behind him. 

Mia waves to them as they head out. 

“Well, chef Mia,” Liam says, “It’s time to enjoy your creation.” 

The practice is more or less uneventful. Mia sits on the bench with Rex like she’d been told, and after a few moments of introducing herself to Louis’s teammates, things settle down and everything is business as usual. 

“Do we have to drive back?” Mia asks as Louis comes out of the tunnel, ready to head home. 

Louis hesitates and then shrugs. “Do you want to walk?” 

Mia nods excitedly and Rex barks once like he’s putting his vote in too. 

Louis readjusts the strap on his shoulder and looks between them. “Okay. Sure.” 

As they leave the stadium and join the hustle and bustle of the city sidewalk, Mia takes his hand. Louis stares at her hand dwarfed in his and checks her expression. But, she’s too busy gawking at the buildings to pay him any mind. Rex walks along with them, a perfect gentleman. 

A couple of blocks from the stadium, Mia jerks on his hand with surprising strength and brings him to a stop. Louis looks down at her, confused, and then moves their trio over to the side so people can pass. 

“What’s up?” 

Mia points to the window. “Look!”

There’s a sign advertising a six-week ballet camp, starting Monday. 

“I don’t think I’d look good in a tutu.” 

Mia giggles and tugs his hand. “Not for you! For me, I love ballet!” 

Louis scratches his head and compelled by some strange force to make her laugh again, keeps up the charade. 

“You want to teach ballet? I don’t know, you probably have to be eighteen or something.” 

That doesn’t have the desired effect of making her laugh but she does display a steller eye-roll that she aims in Rex’s direction, who looks suspiciously like he’s trying to give her one back. 

“Alright, alright,” Louis says, opening the door and holding it for them, “Let’s check it out.” 

The first thing Louis notices about the studio is how clean and airy it is. The walls are pale pink and the hardwood floors shine with obvious care and attention. It’s all fresh, brightly lit, and immaculate. 

The second thing he notices, once they round a corner and find themselves in a waiting room, is the scent of vanilla. The air is tinted with the smell—just enough to be inviting and warm. The walls are lined with comfy looking couches and in the middle of the room is a table littered with dance magazines and candles. 

Mia spins, taking in the room, and points to the window above a counter that must be a reception. Louis heads over and finds a sign that reads “class in session” just beyond the glass. 

“There’s a class going on right now,” Louis reports to Mia. “We can come back tomorrow.” 

“What if there’s a class tomorrow too?” 

Louis blinks. “Uh—”

“And what about the day after that, and the day after that?” 

“Well, I guess that would be the daily schedule then,” Louis says with a sigh. 

Mia pulls Rex over to one of the couches and plops down. “We should just wait.” 

Louis is pretty positive he knows a stubborn look when he sees one and he’s seeing one. 

“We don’t know when the class started.” He points out reasonably. “We could be here for hours waiting.” 

Mia looks unimpressed. “Dance classes don’t go for hours.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Cause people would get too tired!” 

“That’s pretty sound logic,” a deep voice points out from behind Louis, making him spin around. 

In the doorway is a man with brown hair pulled up in a bun, a few loose ringlets have escaped the elastic. Louis assumes his soft-looking yoga pants, pink sweater, and flat black shoes are his ballet teacher uniform. 

“Hey… um…” Louis puts out his hand. “I’m Louis—”

“Tomlinson,” the man finishes with a chuckle, shaking his hand firmly. “Yeah. I know.” 

“You do?”

The man’s smile broadens. “Soccer fans wear pink too.” 

Louis flushes. “No— yeah— I didn’t mean—” 

“I’m Mia!” Mia interrupts, sending an exasperated look in Louis’s direction. “This is Rex.” 

“Hello, Mia and Rex and soccer star Louis Tomlinson. My name is Harry. How can I help you today?” 

“We saw the sign outside for ballet camp.” Louis rocks on his heels and tries to ignore how long Harry’s legs look in his yoga pants. A lot of leg is a personal weakness of his. “Mia is interested in being a teacher here.” 

Harry’s smile turns indulgent and he crouches down. “Is that so?” 

Rex’s tail thumps on the floor. 

Mia smiles and shakes her head. “No, I wanna dance though!” 

“Well, you’re in luck because I’ve got one spot left!” 

Mia cheers and spins away as Harry straightens. She starts chanting “gonna do ballet-et” and wiggling around the room. 

“We’re more just looking for info today,” Louis says. “I’m not sure if we’re gonna sign her up or whatever.” 

Harry looks over Louis’s shoulder at Mia, who is now showing Rex how well she can tip-toe and looks back to Louis. 

“Sure.”

Louis sighs. “I’m pretty new to this. I haven’t really figured out the “no” part yet.”

“New to what?” Dance class?”

Louis hesitates for just a beat. “Uh, no at being a dad actually. It’s a long story.”

“Alright,” Harry says easily. “Well, I’m not a dad but I can tell you from experience as a child wrangler, bringing her here and then telling her you’re not signing her up will probably be um… not great.” 

Louis glances back at Mia quickly. “What, like a tantrum?”

Harry shrugs. “Tears at the very least.” 

Louis groans. He may not be a professional child wrangler but he does have enough experience around tiny humans to know he doesn’t like tears. He hates to see anyone get weepy, really. 

“Alright. Well, you might as well tell me about the classes then.” 

As Harry goes over the details, he gives them a tour of the facility. It’s fairly small, as most places in the city tend to be, but there’s no clutter or crowding so the rooms appear spacious. They see both rooms where classes are held and another that overlooks the classrooms and allows parents to watch. Louis notices the scent of vanilla in every room. 

“Here’s the signup paperwork,” Harry says, handing him a thin packet. “You can bring it on Monday.” 

Louis takes it, nodding absently. Mia had practically glowed during the entire tour. Even if he wasn’t worried about tears, there’s no way he wasn't signing her up just to keep her looking that happy. 

It’s a strange sensation going from being the center of your own universe to orbiting around a brand new, tiny sun in less than 48 hours. But, there’s no denying things have already changed for Louis. 

“We’ll be here,” Louis says. He nods towards Harry. “Is there a uniform or something? A cute pink sweater I have to get her?” 

Harry preens a little, which Louis finds intolerably attractive. “You think my sweater is cute?”

Louis laughs. “Yeah, maybe I’ll one for practice.” 

“You can wear mine,” Harry simpers and then freezes, eyes going wide. “Uh— I mean. She doesn’t need a uniform per se but she will need specific ballet clothes.” 

Louis watches the way Harry’s cheeks pink up and decides he likes it. “Hey Mia,” he calls over to where she and Rex are flipping through a magazine. “Do you think I’d be any good at picking out ballet clothes?” 

Mia looks up and hesitates. “I think you are very good at matching.” 

Louis raises a brow at Harry. “She’s being kind, doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. I’ll probably get her something awful without supervision. I could really use some help.”

Harry narrows his eyes but Louis reads playful in the way they sparkle. “Help?” 

“Yeah, you know, a guide. You wouldn’t be willing to come out with us and find some good looks?”

Harry scrunches his nose. “I— yeah. I think we could do that.” 

“And maybe lunch?” 

“Alright, that would be good too.”

Mia pipes up, unashamed of eavesdropping. “And then ice cream!” 

Harry laughs. “What’s next? Marriage? A baby carriage?” 

Louis drags his eyes up Harry’s body and winks. “Maybe.” 

The flush deepens.

“Well, here’s my card,” Harry says, handing one to Mia as well and pretending to give one to Rex. “I have mornings off so I’ll be free to help with shopping and ice cream.” 

“What about baby carriages?” Louis asks with a grin. 

Harry smirks. “We’ll see Louis Tomlinson, we’ll see.” 

On the way home, Mia spots a sprinkler park and Louis can’t find a reason to stop her from playing in it with Rex. As he watches them splash and run through the water, he flips the business card around in his hands.

Harry is incredibly charming and obviously a kind person. He’s miles away from the type of person Louis usually dates. But, something about him just draws Louis in and he’s got to admit he can’t wait for ballet clothes and ice cream. 

And maybe even baby carriages.

Rex barks and Louis’s eyes snap to Mia. She giggles and splashes Rex with glee. There’s a lot of things to still figure out and he’s far from the perfect dad, but suddenly he knows he’d rather be here with her than in any stadium in the world. 

Louis Tomlinson: international soccer star, philanthropist, bachelor. 

Dad.


End file.
